


Red Corn

by tropia



Category: Original Work
Genre: ....except??, Horror, Scarecrow - Freeform, TMA inspired, okay its sooo tma language inspired im sorry, poop draft from the sandbox AGAIN, written by someone whos never seen a cornfield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-11-09
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:08:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27477031
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tropia/pseuds/tropia
Summary: "As we passed I swear he looked at me even though I couldn't see his eyes since they were shaded under a large hat. The scarecrow was turned in my direction and it seemed to look at me too, with its almost human-like features, although it sagged a little."TMA-Inspired short story about a lad seeing a weird farmer and his weird scarecrow.





	Red Corn

**Author's Note:**

> written by someone whos never been to america. i dont know what a corn field is sorry. #suckit!!

It was a familiar site, the cornfields.  
Standing tall and bright under a golden country sun and almost ready to be picked. My father and I were actually locals and would usually drive past the fields in our truck to reach the city. I was considered a 'country boy' and was always excited to see the large lights and sounds. My father had to drive up daily for some 'work', and he let me come too.  
It was in the middle of September when it started. I was only around twelve at the time in the early fifties but I swear to God what I saw was all real.  
One of the fields on the way to the city was…odd. It was owned by some old farmer who I didn't know much about, but he must've spread his odd vibes around his whole plot, because the corn that grew on his land seemed…darker, or duller. They were taller than the rest, like their goal was to block out the Sun. I didn't understand how when I was younger, and now I wish i never looked into it.

Turns out the farmer's name was Mark. Don't ask how I know, but I live in a small town and people are sure to find out your life story one way or another. He lived there for a long time, some would even say too long given how old he was. But still, he was working and was quite private so no one paid much attention to him. Well, one evening as my father and I were home I could see Mark on his cornfield. He was setting up a scarecrow. It was like any other homemade scarecrow but it made me feel…uneasy somehow. It was strangely life-like. As we passed I swear he looked at me even though I couldn't see his eyes since they were shaded under a large hat. The scarecrow was turned in my direction and it seemed to look at me too, with its almost human-like features, although it sagged a little.

That night I couldn't sleep. I felt angry and weirdly frightened. I needed to know more. I was suddenly intrigued with this old man and his strange scarecrow. Unfortunately, his field was quite the walk and, well, I was 12 so I couldn't go out that far either way. I could only see his field when we were driving to the city and back. That's all I could do. I could only watch. But it wasn't too far from the road so I was able to get a quick glimpse before it was out of my sight. I call the scarecrow an 'it' because now I know what it actually was…

Time passed and it was winter at this point, so the corn should've been a little weaker, but Mark's corn was the same as it was in the fall. Tall, dark and dull. When I saw his corn at the local farmer's market it was more saturated and more…orange than the rest. A  
At this point every time we passed, Mark's field and scarecrow was the only thing I would look at. I couldn't jump out of the truck as it was moving, that would be crazy…Except I did. I needed to investigate. It was a particularly cold evening and my vision was slightly blocked by the giant stalks of corn I had just jumped into. My father yelled and screeched the truck to a stop, running after me in a panic. I didn't stop stumbling my way through until I was right in front of the scarecrow. It was thin and wore old clothes. Honestly, it looked like a floppy silicone puppet. It was in one whole piece from head to feet. A weird thing was that it wasn't stuffed. No straw, no hay; It flapped around like a flag. It looked more like a mark of victory than a scarecrow to ward off pests.

I got closer.  
As I pushed the remaining stalks away from me, I…I got too curious. I touched the scarecrow to feel what it was made of. I shouldn't have.

It was skin. Human skin still intact, like all the internal organs had been magically sucked out, eyeballs and everything. Yea, I gagged. I would have thrown up all over the flabby piece of skin if my father didn't yank at my arm. I don't think he saw what I saw as he dragged me away and gave me an extreme telling-off. I looked behind my shoulder, and there was Mark. He was carrying a wheelbarrow full of fertilizer and his light blonde beard stuck out of his chin. I say 'stuck out' because as I looked closer, I could see him in more detail.

He looked like Mark, obviously. But then I gasped. His skin didn't..look like skin anymore. It looked like a stuffed potato sack. And his beard looked like straw. His hat still shadowed his eyes, but I saw their glint in the evening sun. He had eyes, but they weren't his. And as my racing brain connected the dots, I noticed they were bulging, because straw was stuffed behind them in his sockets.  
In a craze I started to speed-walk at the same pace as my raging father. We drove home quicker than usual, and that was it.

I was horrified by whatever I had seen that evening. It got worse as I realized that I stepped in the fertilizer he used in the field. I inspected it.  
It was a deep red, with crushed bones. I was sick to my stomach and went straight to the toilet in case I vomited while I calmed my nerves.  
I didn't drive with my father into the city after that. It was worth staying at home.


End file.
